Solitary Soul
by PerpetualPhoenix
Summary: AU Those three words were left until it was too late, uttered as he exhaled your last breath. How will she get through life without him?


_Freedom. _

Why had that never been something she longed for? All those years ago, when she was trapped under the ruling of her master, whom she loved with all her heart. Everybody was able to see it, except her. Voluntarily living under the power of Lord Voldemort did have it's disadvantages; she had never learned how to live without him. Being away from him was something she could not adjust to, obviously.. As Azkaban had driven her insane. Surviving a lifetime without him was not on her list of expectations.

Things had changed traumatically, so much so that it was difficult to remember that once, so long ago, she had been feared across the globe. Now, it was a simple case of Bellatrix Lestrange; the bitch who lost everything.

Leaning against that cold, cell wall, she stopped to wonder; was anything worth it?

Her solitary journey had undoubtedly been a needlessly long one, it would have been remotely easy if there was so much as a drop of sanity left in her, but without Voldemort, her whole life spiralled out of control, and now she was here, being treated like a worthless muggle.

Nobody cared for her reputation.

Nobody cared for her threats.

Nobody cared for her existance.

However had it come to this? Her memories were dead, but clear enough to see the haunting remains in her corrupted mind.

- - - - - - - - - - **x**_x_

The dusk was near, and the battle was about to be won. Hundreds of unmoving corpses lay in the grounds of Hogwarts, unnoticed by the vast majority of fighters around them, leaning over to assist a dying person was a risk nobody was willing to take, if only in order to protect their own living. With every deathly scream, a cackle followed it, one more significant than the rest. Curses were fired in multiple directions, the hope of emerging victorious fading as further lives disappeared into oblivion, worst of all, to the hands of the enemies. Bellatrix's list of victims was increasing with every spell she cast; Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin were only two of the dozens, but by far the most significant. She had waited for a lifetime to end the lives of her dear yet treacherous niece and her filthy, werewolf husband. The black night sky was hardly recognizable behind the blanket of multicolored sparks. It potentially could have been a rather beautiful scene, had if not happened to be a landscape in which so many would die on that very night.

Bellatrix, being one of the slightly more advanced of the fighter's, was battling three pathetic girls at once, and even though it was so obviously an uneven playing field, Bellatrix was winning with minimal effort. Luna Lovegood, Hermione Granger, and Ginny Weasley were the unfortunate three who were forced to fight for their own lives, hardly each others.. This was merely from Bellatrix's point of view, though she had never possessed a heart for anybody but one man; the man who was duelling three Order members fifty yards away from herself. Even that short gap was too far apart for her to accept.

"I wonder how Mummy will cope - Losing two children, I would think it a rather unworthy death, fighting for the wrong caus - CRUCIO!"

Ginny was growing red in the face with anger, and as a result, her spells and reflexes were more instant, firing multiple bat bogey hexes in the direction of the deranged witch, only for them to be dodged, a more powerful force returned as a replacement. Bellatrix was, as a matter of fact, enjoying herself. Was she honestly so insane that she loved the experience of missing death by an inch? Yes, purely because it was inevitable that she would emerge victorious. Three schoolgirls were no match for her, as they did not possess the experience and skill that she did, they had not been taught by Lord Voldemort himself. Taunting them was surely competition for every other factor, the ability to put on that false baby voice, and dispute insults, to which they could barely respond. Every attempt at fighting back was destroyed by something as fragile as a movement, or a weak shielding spell.

Every now and again, Bellatrix would glance over to her master, in hopes that he would look back... There was nothing else her heart longed for than to look into the eyes of her master. Especially considering she was his most faithful Death Eater, it was strangely enough, a rare occurrence, but even so, she cherished every moment of closeness she could possibly muster.

With another quick movement of her thin lips, a blue shield was formed between the two oppositions, reflecting a spell that Hermione had just sent hurdling towards Bellatrix. Although the victory was undoubtedly hers, with every attempt the girls made, the angrier she became - her once amused gaze transforming itself into a deadly glare, hatred filling her black orbs.

"You cannot defeat me!" she shrieked, for two reasons in particular. One, so it was possible to be heard over the blazing crowds, and two, she was simply mad. "I am his most faithful follower - you are naught but a mudblood, incapable of ever living up to the standards us purebloods have set... We who will go down in history, as something other than a filthy magic stealer."

"You - You -" Hermione could not find the words, not in the heat nor the shock of that moment. "Foul - Evil - GARGOYLE."

Although it was a pathetic excuse for an insult, the second Hermione uttered these words, Bellatrix anger came to a raging climax, her nostrils flaring as she moved her wand away from between the three of them (where she had been positioned previously) and perfected her aim, holding it so it was aimed at Hermione, without another possible coarse for the spell to go on.

"I would not have said that if I were you... CRUCIO!"

This time around, there was definitely more power, more force in her words and mind, enough to turn a few heads, and attract stares of awe, though it satisfied her to know that no matter how many people filled the area that surrounded them, nobody could help this poor little mudblood who was now at her mercy, regardless of how much they wanted to.

"HERMIONE!" somebody shouted from the distance, a voice that even registered somewhere in Bellatrix's train of thought, though she did not care to recall. All that was of any importance, was the opportunity laid out before her in that moment.

The second a scarlet red bolt of light contacted Hermione's skin, a horrifying shriek was triggered, strangely more audible than the others, whether they are screams of fear, or that final screech, in which the heart stops, to reveal complete blackness.

"You foul-"

Words escaped Hermione's lips between screams, at any given opportunity, she would release it, although it was a struggle of various powers; the force of pain and will.

"Loathsome-"

Another scream.

"Evil-"

Another deafening yell.

"Little cockroach!"

A final display of surface agony.

If only Bellatrix had known of the scene taking place behind them, she would have retreated from Hermione, and fought with her master, if only to protect him, save him.. Would he have loved her for that?

"You MOSQUITO!"

By this point, the pain that rippled through Hermione was unbearable, so much so that she had been reduced to a fall, curling up on the grassy floor as she tried with all her might to fight the stabbing sensations, in order to survive this battle, and return to the life she used to lead, but against Bellatrix Lestrange? That was seemingly impossible. As each shock ran through her, Hermione whispered her goodbyes into the soaking floor, shutting her eyes as tightly as she possibly could, awaiting those two fatal words. Surely they would come sooner or later, there was no reason for Bellatrix to want her alive anymore, not that she never had of course, unless for a questioning.

"AVADA KEDAV-"

The world around them seemed to freeze, time seemed to have stop, and although Hermione was at this point losing consciousness, it took Bellatrix a few moments to register what had just happened. Raising her gaze, to meet the crowd, a smirk intact, eyeing each of them coldly. In all truth, she was waiting for one of them to emerge, to prove that they did not fear her, only to die as a result of such foolishness.. Nobody did. Nobody seemed to be looking at Bellatrix, nobody appeared to care. What could possibly be more fascinating than his most faithful follower? Making sure to recompose herself, Bellatrix took a few steps forward, maneuvering herself around two people. Nobody lunged for her; nobody did anything but stand and stare in awe... It was only a matter of time until she faced the unbearable hurt and shock of that site.

"No..." she whispered, coming to a standstill for a brief moment, unable to process what she was seeing... It could not be true, as it was impossible. Fighting back a shake, she walked further towards that dreaded spot, where Lord Voldemort lay, his nonexistent heart, no longer beating.

It hit her, it was all true. With a pained wail, followed by an eruption of sobs, Bellatrix collapsed to the ground, tears streaming down her cheeks. The Dark Lord was everything to her, her entire life. She was nothing without him, as she had given herself up to serve him... She loved him more than anything else she had ever laid eyes upon, it was undeniable that she would do anything for him; had she been able, she was certain that she would have taken the killing curse, dying for him... Was there any higher honour?

Her reaction seemed to be of the most emotion she had ever felt, emotion that would have been thought impossible for such a heartless bitch, but only for him. Her shrieks filled the room, echoing around her as the river in her flowed, gripping onto him as tightly as she possibly could.

"Don't leave me - I need you!"

No response could ever come from him, and even if it did, she herself knew that it would not be anything alike hers. He did not love her, he never had, and he never would. Dead or alive, Bellatrix believed that they were destined to love, but in truth, Voldemort could never love. He was incapable of it, even the thought. Bellatrix on the other hand, was unable to love anybody but him.. A match made in the depths of hell. Letting go was not what she wanted to do, ever. To reverse time would have been a cherished gift, but beyond the bounds of possibility. By now, she was as close to him as was obtainable, her body across his, gripping onto his arm, almost as if it would prevent him from leaving.

"I love you..." she whispered into his ear, shakily, and inaudibly to the others standing in the room, surveying this apparently interesting scene. The wizarding world in its entirety knew of her obsession with him, and they knew of the circumstances, but never before had Bellatrix spoken those words; not to anybody, not even to him. A tear dropped from her cheek onto his, and she knew it was too late to save him, or to save herself. Her pace of breathing seemed to lose her as she lost her reason for living, her chest heaving up and down as she let the tears fall, there was nothing she could do now... Until that unbearable night was through, she did not want to leave his side. For forty years, she had followed him, made a promise that she would forever be faithful to him... but she had always been more than a follower, more than a servant, though he could hear her now as he lay on the ground, his soul further away than she could ever have imagined. As she gazed down at his lifeless, yet hate-filled expression, a part of her died... Her eyes too fell to a gradual close, though not to join him in the next life, as for a moment she would have hoped, but to shut away the hurt than was filling her insides, to leave that place forever, drifting into the memories of her master. He was the last thing that would be taken away from her, the only thing that would matter; now she was a battered rose, kneeling beside the love of her life, silently praying that the truth was the anonym.

No matter how much she wanted it, she could not stay there for the rest of her short-lived eternity, but even so, she could not find it in her heart to leave his side, so she held onto him tighter, and as protesting shouts erupted from behind her, she spun on the spot, taking her master with her.

The flaw in the plan; she had not focused on a particular destination, but wherever she was going, freedom would come with it, even if it was without her master...

He would forever be in her heart, nobody else... Letting go was the main impossibility.


End file.
